The mad boy with a wand
by Consistent Pessimist
Summary: When the Doctor accidentally ages himself back to an eleven year old the TARDIS takes him to Hogwarts where he must find a way to age himself back, not give away his secret, and stop time from going wrong.
1. Chapter One - Dear Mr Smith

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Harry Potter. I'm 100% sure… Actually I'm 99.99% sure. Hold on I gotta check something.**

 **This is inspired by the Bibliomaniac's story called "De-Aged"** **. There will be similarities but overall the story will be different. But really check out the Bibliomaniac's story, it's awesome!**

 **After taking a long break from this story I edited the first five chapters that I already posted. I'm not sure if I will continue or how often I will post if I will. Thank you to all who read it!**

 **Also this is the Eleventh Doctor and set during the first Harry Potter book.**

* * *

Chapter One - Dear Mr. Smith

The Doctor stood leaning against the console in his TARDIS, an upside down book in one hand, a cup of tea in the other, and a fez balanced precariously on his head. He was alone on the TARDIS for the moment, having dropped off Clara a few days ago. It was quiet and calm for once.

It didn't last long. As always something had to go wrong. Today that something appeared to be an unidentified object crashing right into the TARDIS. The TARDIS wobbled at the collision and sent both her and the object off course. The Doctor stumbled dropped his book, spilled his tea all over the console, and somehow managed to keep the fez on his head before falling down and struggling to get up. Sparks flew from the places the hot drink had spilled and the cup, which the Doctor had dropped a second ago, shattered. The TARDIS righted herself with a second jerk, causing the Doctor to, once again, fall straight down.

Sparks continued flying from the console. Apparently the liquid had spilled over something important. The Doctor reached for his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the console. It seemed to have worked for a moment before another spark shot off and a jolt of energy hit the Doctor. It wasn't painful and through the comotion the Doctor barely noticed it.

He soniced the console again and all the sparks died down. The Doctor let out a breath and his face split into a smile.

"Now that is much better than a book!" He exclaimed. "Now let's see what it was that hit us." He grabbed the screen and turned it toward himself. The screen showed the object and it's trajectory. It was heading straight toward Earth.

"Oh no, not again! I just hope it's not nanogenes again." He stopped for a moment remembering his time in the 1940's with Jack and Rose. He shook himself out of it. _No time to reminisce._

He grabbed the TARDIS controls and followed the object. Thankfully the TARDIS was much faster than it so he caught up to it just before it hit Earth's atmosphere.

Unfortunately at that moment it decided to split into two parts. One half hurtled down to Earth and the other sped toward the TARDIS. It landed with a loud clang in the floor. Whipping out his sonic screwdriver the Doctor scanned it again and then hesitantly picked it up. Nothing happened.

Well, nothing happened for a few minutes. Then something happened.

The half sphere started to open a tiny bit from the center and a bright light spilled out. Suddenly it pulsed forward from the object and for a second everything was enveloped in light. Then it stopped and the light disappeared.

The Doctor fell to the ground. The light had done something to him but right now he could not tell what. Darkness descended over him and he didn't even realize the TARDIS had landed somewhere.

* * *

The Doctor awoke feeling as though he had just regenerated several times. It took a moment for him to remember why he lying on the floor with his cheek pressed against the metal grating. He pulled himself up with great effort. His whole body felt tired and he had a bad headache.

Being the Doctor the first wrong thing that occurred to him was that his fez was too big. He then realized that, in fact all his clothes had enlarged. It took another moment before he realized that his clothes hadn't gotten bigger; he had gotten smaller. In fact he was tiny!

"No!" His voice was high pitched. "No!"

He was a child. A child, again! And by the looks of it he was around 11 years old. The Doctor groaned and fell back down to the floor. He did not want to relive his childhood. If he was right, and he usually was, then he would begin to revert to his childhood behaviors and habits. He had always been a bit of a weird child. He was extremely curious and often didn't think things through or consider the consequences. He loved running around and exploring. However he would also love reading and learning. As a child some days he could barely keep still while others he would sit alone for hours on end. Some things didn't change, like his morals or his aversion of violence.

He had though always had a bad habit of blurting things out at the most inopportune moments. Of course it was this same skill that helped him escape many sticky situations, or cause them to happen in the first place.

The Doctor tried to stand again but found himself back on the floor after tripping over his ridiculously large clothes.

"Right, first things first, I need to get some clothes." He muttered to himself as he made his way towards the closet where he knew he had some kids clothes. After some deliberation he decided on an outfit that consisted of a white button down shirt with a sweater over it, faded blue jeans, and red converses and bowtie. He had been unable to find a smaller version of his fez to great disappointment, so he decided to keep the one he had even if it was too big.

Now that he was no longer tripping over his clothes at every step came the problem of how to turn himself back into an adult. Unfortunately, he had no idea what the object was or how to fix it. He could barely reach the controls as he was quite small for his age. Finally he pulled the right lever and the TARDIS started moving. Then with a loud crash she settled back down.

"What?" The Doctor asked, completely baffled. He pulled the lever again and pressed a few buttons. The TARDIS disappeared and with another jolt reappeared in the same place again. The Doctor pulled out his sonic and scanned the panel.

"Oh, come on! We're stuck here! It's like we're in a bubble, unable to leave. I'd say we could go, uh," He glanced back down at his screwdriver. "About as far as Scotland. Hey Amy…" He trailed off remembering his companions were no longer here. For a moment he stayed like that and you could truly see his age. Then he smiled again and it was gone.

"Now, where would an eleven year old kid blend in? Somewhere fun, with adventure and danger." He mumbled to himself.

The TARDIS chimed happily and decided to take matters into her own hands. She lit up and quickly spit out an envelope that the Doctor grabbed. Taking it he realized the envelope was made of a thick parchment and addressed to him:

Mr. J. Smith

The console room

The TARDIS

London

He opened the envelope and took out the three papers inside. The first one read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Smith,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

"Brilliant!" He said once he had read through the letter. Of course he knew of the magical world, he had even helped a few times, but he had never learned magic. This was also fairly convenient, as it would provide him with a place to live for a few months, until he could figure out how to turn himself back. He looked up at the TARDIS and she gave a smug ding.

"Yes, yes, you're very clever. I suppose it is a good cover. I can stay there while I figure out how to fix this."

He pulled out the second sheet of paper which had all the required items on it. The last sheet was the one he had to send back to confirm that he would be attending. The Doctor filled it out quickly and stuffed it into his pocket. He would have to figure out how to send it later. Despite being in this situation he was feeling rather excited. He never could resist a challenge.

He stuck his head outside the TARDIS and noted that the Leaky Cauldron, the way to get into Diagon Alley, was just across the street from where the TARDIS had parked.

"It's almost like you planned this." He muttered. From behind him he could hear the TARDIS make an offended noise.

He glanced down at the second sheet of paper again and then hurried off into on of the many storage rooms where he knew he had a trunk, one that was bigger on the inside, of course. After making his way through some old gadgets and artifacts he found what he was looking for. It was covered in dust but would still work wonderfully. He removed the false bottom and clambered inside to make sure everything was in order there. Apart from some dust and cobwebs it seemed to be just as he left it. The Doctor sighed, he would clean all this later, and climbed out of the trunk again.

The TARDIS showed that it was July 29th today, he had time until school started. He decided that he would stay at the Leaky Cauldron until term started since it would draw too much attention if a kid was constantly walking in and out of a police box, despite the perception filter. In fact the Leaky Cauldron too had a perception filter, though a weaker one. He assumed that this was to keep muggles out, though he really didn't see the purpose of that. The way to Diagon Alley was still concealed even without the pub being hidden.

This was the problem with wizards. They really opposed change and instead prefered to stay secluded and not change at all.

The Doctor made his way into the bank room of the TARDIS. He didn't usually carry money with him but he did have it. In fact he had a lot of it actually. He didn't really remember where it all came from to be honest.

He opened the door and made his way to the section that contained the wizarding money. Pulling out a money bag he grabbed several handfuls of galleons, sickles, and knuts, and shoved them into the bag. That should last him for a year.

The Doctor made his way back to the trunk, grabbed it and, carrying it behind him, crossed the street and entered the dingy pub. As he walked in the people inside ceased their conversations for a moment and turned to look at him. There was a moment of silence. Then, everyone turned back and the conversations resumed. He walked up to the innkeeper.

"Hello." He said. "I'd like to book a room until September 1st."

"Ah! Hogwarts student are you?"

The Doctor nodded.  
"Well, are your parents around?"

"No sir. I'm by myself."

Thankfully he didn't seem to be too surprised at that. The innkeeper led the Doctor up some stairs and into a room with a bed and a small desk. He sat down on the bed and contemplated what had happened to him recently. He looked out the window; it was getting dark. Perhaps he would visit Diagon Alley in the morning.

* * *

The Doctor stood at the entrance to Diagon Alley. It was magnificent! He had been to many different markets and fairs on various planets but this was different. Perhaps it was because he was a child and therefore had the emotions of one, but he was totally in awe, frozen for a few seconds.

Then the moment passed and the Doctor closed his mouth and entered the magical world. There were shops for books, robes, and even brooms. He had to restrain himself as he wanted to go everywhere at once. The Doctor took out his list again and scanned it. Cauldron, scales, telescope, various potion items (at this he frowned, it would make much more sense to just use chemicals, rather than specific items. He would have to get some of that too.), robes, wand, and books. He would leave the books for last, as he was likely to stay and read until the shop closed if he went there first.

The first thing he did was go and send off the form he had filled out. He did not want to forget. Then he went to buy the items required for potions. The shop smelled terrible but there were so many things that interested him. Potions was just a slightly different version of chemistry, something that he had always found fun. It had been hard, however to convince the storekeeper to let him buy some of the more dangerous chemicals, but he had managed it at the end.

He then went to buy robes at "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions", where the witch working there fitted him with robes, though with much trouble. The Doctor simply couldn't stay still for more than a minute today, which made it rather hard for her. He didn't really like the robes all that much, it didn't fit his style, but as they were a necessity he got them.

He already had a cauldron, telescope, scales, and both glass and crystal phials, but the list required a standard set, so he had to get all of it again. He then trudged off to get a wand. The wand shop was small and dimly lit and cluttered with boxes. The shelves were practically bursting with them. At first the Doctor didn't see the old man, as he was still looking around, so when he spoke it caught him off guard.

"Good afternoon." A soft voice spoke.

The Doctor turned in surprise and saw the owner of the voice. This must be Mr. Ollivander. "Hello." He said. "I've come to get my wand."

"Oh, yes, very good, very good. What is your name?"

"The Do— John Smith." He caught himself.

"And, Mr. Smith, Which is your wand hand?"

"Ambidextrous." He said. "Though I suppose preferred right."

"Hold out you arm then, thank you."

He did so and a moment later he was being measured every which way. While that was happening Mr. Ollivander was rummaging around the shelves. Finally he pulled out one box and brought it over to where the Doctor stood.

"Try this, beech wood and unicorn hair, nine and three quarters inches, quite flexible."

He handed the Doctor the wand. It lay in his hand completely still and he could feel it's distance. It almost seemed to dislike him.

"Well, give it a try."

He lifted his hand and immediately a glass vase shattered.

"Sorry." He said quickly.

"No matter. No, no. That wont do at all." He muttered, taking the wand from his hand and going off to find another wand.

"Cypress and dragon heartstring, eight and a quarter inches, springy!" He handed the Doctor another wand. This one seemed to be a bit annoyed at him. He waved it and accidentally sent all the papers on the desk flying.

"No, no. it must be something else." Mr. Ollivander muttered again and strode off to get a new wand for him. "This one, maple and dragon heartstring, twelve inches, stiff."

He had barely touched this wand when it jumped back from his hand and onto the floor. Mr. Ollivander continued as if nothing had happened.

"Here! Pear wood and phoenix feather, nine inches and a half, slightly springy." he said, handing the Doctor the wand.

As soon as the wand was in his hand it exploded. Shaking his head and muttering something under his breath Mr. Ollivander retreated further into the store. He pulled out wand after wand, and after they barely touched his palm snatched it away. Finally he returned with a dusty box.

"I've had this one for ages, in fact my grandfather said it had been given to him by an old friend. I wonder if…" He took out the wand. "Maple and phoenix feather, eleven inches, very flexible. Perfect for travelers and explorers. This wand can not stay in one place too long or it will grow heavy and lackluster. My grandfather told me this was the wand of a great traveler. The stories he used to tell..." He trailed off and handed the wand to the Doctor. When his hand grasped the wand a peculiar feeling engulfed him, a warmth streaming from the wand. He lifted it and pointed and a few sparks came out of the end. He examined the wand and at the bottom he could see a small carving. When he examined it further he saw that the carving was Gallifreyan. "The Doctor" was carved into the handle. He wondered how this wand had gotten here; who had given it to Mr. Ollivanders grandfather? The only person who could have written this would be himself. He would have to figure this out later.

"Yes, that seems right. That will be seven galleons." Mr. Ollivander said, shaking the Doctor out of his thoughts. He handed over the money, took the wand, and left the shop.

His next stop would be to get books. He was rather excited for this one as he loved to read, so he quickly made his way into "Flourish and Blotts" the bookstore, and quickly found all the required books as well as several of his own choosing. In fact he had picked up several books for later years as well. When he had paid for all his purchases he sat down in the bookshop, opened a book and began to read. He had finished three and a half books by the time the store began to close. When the owner had kicked him out the Doctor returned to his room in The Leaky Cauldron and continued reading.

He wanted to learn as much as he could about the world and the time period. Though he knew of the magical world he had never been a part of it. He was especially intrigued to how magic actually worked. He knew that wizards drew on psionic energy and he supposed that the wands helped harness the energy and concentrate it. He wondered if doing magic without a wand was possible. It must be, but it probably required much more concentration and effort. He understood the theory but wasn't able to actually try it. That would have to wait until he was at school.

The next weeks flew by. He visited Diagon Alley a few more times, to replenish his supply on books and to see what other things were sold, but he spent most of his time reading. He had also cleaned out the trunk and had found that it would be an adequate alternative to the TARDIS while he was at school. He had also decided that he would send the TARDIS off to stand somewhere on the outskirts of the castle, so that it wouldn't draw attention, but if need be he could access it.

On the morning of September 1st he awoke early in the morning and looked around his room. He still had to get all his books into the trunk, something he had neglected doing for the last week. Grumbling and rubbing his eyes he got up, dressed, and then proceed to clean up his room, by haphazardly throwing everything into the trunk. He had noticed that since he aged himself down some of his habits and traits that he had as a child had also returned. That included his distaste for cleaning.

He gathered his things, shoved them into the trunk and carried it downstairs. Then he walked to the TARDIS, took the last things he thought he might need and sent her off to wait at Hogwarts. His next stop was platform nine and three quarters.

* * *

 **A/N: So as you can see I changed some things and kept some things. I'm not sure exactly sure where I'm headed with this story but I have a better idea than before. I hope you liked the improvements.**


	2. Chapter Two - Interruptions

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who. Still trying though. Who knows, maybe JK Rowling will give up.**

 **Another inspiration for me was "The De-Aged Doctor" series by Whovian101 on ao3 (I would link it but I can't)**

* * *

Chapter 2 - Interruptions

The Doctor was standing in King's Cross Station, carrying his trunk behind him. Around him people bustled off to wherever they had to go. He was facing the wall between platforms nine and ten. He glanced down at his ticket again. Then he looked up, steeled himself and ran at the wall. He braced himself waiting for the impact, but it never came. Finally he opened his eyes. In front of him were students and parents and a great, big, red train.

He could hear parents calling to their children who had already gotten onto the train, telling them to send letters, and wishing them a good year. Around him stood more parents some clutching their children, like they didn't want to let them go. To his right he could see a big group of children gathered in a group. They were all ginger. _Why couldn't I be ginger?_ The Doctor though and looked back at the wall he had just come through.

"Fascinating!" He whispered. "It's not teleporting us, and it's not just hidden from view! This is incredible. I think it's folding space over on itself and creating a gateway from one place to another!" He turned expecting to see someone listening to him, but there was no one there. He had gotten so used to Amy and Rory's presence that it was weird without them. His hearts clenched at that and a wave of sadness overcame him for a moment. Then he shook his head, as if to clear the thought away, and moved on from the wall.

He clambered onto the train and pulled his trunk up beside him. He would have to find a compartment that was relatively empty. He was pretty sure that the train ride would be boring and he didn't really want to be dragged into some stupid conversation that he didn't care about.

After walking for a few minutes he stumbled onto a compartment that was almost empty. A boy with black hair sat alone staring out the window.

"Hello! Mind if I sit here?"

Not really waiting for an answer, the Doctor plopped down onto a seat opposite the black haired boy.

"So, I'm the Doctor. I mean John Smith." He corrected. "The Doctor is like my," he paused. "Like my nickname!"

"I'm Harry Potter." The boy said and they shook hands.

Now that the introductions were done the Doctor pulled out "A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration." He flipped to the right page, somewhere in the middle of the book and continued reading.

The train started moving and a few seconds later the compartment door slid open to reveal a red-headed boy.

"Anyone sitting there?" He asked, pointing to the seat next to the Doctor.

Both boys shook their head and the red-haired boy sat down, deliberately not looking at either of them. The door opened again.

"Hey Ron," two identical ginger haired boys said to what the Doctor assumed to be their brother. "Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train — Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right." The boy, Ron, mumbled.

"Oh, hello!" The other twin said, noticing the Doctor. "Woah, are you reading 'A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration?' That's a sixth year book!"

The Doctor glanced up. "I'm trying to understand the theory. This is the only book that seems to have it. I mean that's just ridiculous. How are we supposed to learn the magic without understanding how it's done. See, I've got all the others down, but Transfiguration is tricky. Because the ways it's written it sounds like it breaks the law of conservation of mass! So I'm trying to figure out what it actually does, because obviously it works so there has to be an explanation."

The four boys stared at the Doctor with awe.

"Blimey," one of the twins said. "You're like a genius! Anyway, we're Fred and George Weasley. And Ron's our brother."

"I'm John Smith but call me the Doctor." The Doctor said.

"Isn't that a muggle Healer?" The twin on the right side said.

"Sort of."

"Okay. Well, see you around, John, Harry." They left, sliding the compartment door shut behind them. As soon as they left Ron turned to Harry.

"Are you really Harry Potter then?"

Harry nodded.

"Oh — well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. " And have you really got — you know…"

He pointed to Harry's forehead. Harry pulled back his bangs to show a peculiar lightning shaped scar. The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and brought it up to the scar.

"Ooh, now that is fascinating! There's a bunch of psychic energy concentrated around this scar. How did you get it?"

"Oh come off it, you don't know who Harry Potter is?" Ron asked. Harry looked extremely uncomfortable. "And what is that thing?"

"Screwdriver. And no, I don't."

"His parents were killed by You-Know-Who but Harry survived."

"You-Know-Who, is that Grindelwald or Voldemort or—"

But he didn't finish because Ron cut him off. "You said You-Know-Who's name!"

"Wait, which one is he? I get confused. For some reason lots of dark lords get called that. Never understood it. Names are powerful. By calling him You-Know-Who you're giving away that power!"

"It was Voldemort," Harry said quietly. "And I'd rather not talk about it anymore."

They quieted down.

"Are all your family wizards?" Harry asked Ron after a while.

"Er — Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know a lot of magic already." Harry said.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. What about you John?"

"My family's gone." The Doctor said quietly.

"Oh, sorry," Harry stammered. "How, I mean how did they…" He trailed off.

"Oh, well, that's not important. Who wants to hear about boring old me. How many brothers do you have Ron?"

"Five," said Ron. He looked annoyed. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron pulled out a fat gray rat from inside his robes. It seemed to be asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff— I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron blushed.

"Oh money, never had any." The Doctor said. "Why bother. Money makes you greedy. It makes you stop appreciating the beauty of the universe. It's usually the people without money who live the most fulfilling lives."

"I've never had any money before I found out about magic. I didn't know anything about being a wizard or my parents or Voldemort," At this Ron winced. "Until Hagrid told me," said Harry. "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"Rubbish! We're all basically starting at the same level. It really doesn't matter how you were brought up. Pure-bloods just like to think it does." The Doctor interjected.

Harry looked happier at this. They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

* * *

At half past twelve the door of the compartment opened again to reveal a smiling woman with a cart.

"Anything off the cart, dears?"

She asked. Harry leapt up and proceed to buy a bit of everything while Ron turned red and muttered something about a sandwich. The Doctor continued reading. He was re-reading some of the passages for what seemed to be the thousandth time, trying to understand the theory of Transfiguration. It was really bothering him.

Harry came back in with an armful of candy and dumped it all onto the last empty seat. He invited Ron and The Doctor to take some. Ron grabbed some and stuffed it into his mouth while the Doctor declined. He wasn't feeling hungry.

Some time later the door slid open again. It seemed like everyone wanted to interrupt them. A round faced boy stuck his head into the compartment.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

They shook their heads and he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"What's his name?" The Doctor asked.

"Trevor."

"Well, when you find him you should ask him why he left. Maybe he was trying to find something. Just tell him that you were worried and to come back in an hour next time."

Everyone stared at him as though he was crazy.

"I've got to go look for Trevor. If you see him…" The round faced boy said and left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still sleeping. There was something a bit off about him.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He took out an old and very battered wand that seemed as if it was about to snap. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway,"

He raised his wand jus as the door opened for the fifth time and a girl with curly hair walked in along with the boy who lost the toad.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, sounding annoyed. The girl however was looking at his wand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down in the last empty seat. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er — alright. Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." Nothing happened.

"Hmm, let me try." The Doctor pulled out his wand and pointed it at Scabbers. He knew that magic was just psionic energy. Concentrate hard enough and you don't even need a wand. The wand and the words were like shortcuts. But even without them it was possible.

The Doctor concentrated very hard on the color yellow, picturing the rat in that color. He gave the wand a short jerk and said, "Fiet Flavo"

The rat turned a vibrant yellow.

"What is that spell?" The girl asked. "I've never heard of it."

"Oh, I made it up. 'Fiet Flavo' is 'become yellow' in Latin. Most of the spells are in Latin too. I suppose there's some link in the language that makes it easier than English. With enough concentration it would work in English as well. Look."

He lifted his wand again and concentrating on a sky blue this time said, "Turn Blue!" He jerked his wand as he said it and the rat turned the exact blue he was picturing. He smiled.

"Well, I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard."

"Oh, Ilvermorny is a great school. Their sorting makes more sense though I still think splitting up students is a bad idea. Oh and Durmstrang produces some of the most powerful wizards. Shame that they get a bad reputation because of the Dark Arts."

"What are Ilvermorny and Durmstrang?" Harry asked.

"They're wizarding schools. Ilvermorny is in America and Durmstrang is somewhere in western Russia. But we don't know for sure."

"I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough."

"Memorizing the books won't help you. Understanding them will. See, the difference between learning and memorising is understanding. Can you expand on the ideas of other people? Can you explain why something is that way? That's what learning is. Which is why I'm trying to figure out Transfiguration. It just doesn't make sense."

The girl looked stunned at this. She recovered quickly however.

"My name is Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"The Doctor."

"What kind of name is that?" Hermione asked.

"It's my nickname."

"Ron Weasley," said Ron, through the food he was chewing.

"Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" Hermione said, looking interested again, "I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.

"Am I?" Harry looked overwhelmed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do any of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…"

"I honestly don't care. I think the sorting is all rubbish anyway. All it does is create unnecessary drama and tension between students," the Doctor said, still looking down at his book, "I could see myself going into any of them."

"Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." Hermione said and left the compartment.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron, throwing his wand into his trunk. "Stupid spell — George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"Well, it really doesn't matter what you say as long as you concentrate on it. It's just the words and the motions help concentrate the energy. The more times the spell is done with certain words and motions, the more ingrained it gets in the psionic field and therefore it's easier to repeat. It's like a shortcut, the first person who goes through it has to create it, then it gets easier and easier. That's why some spells are easier to cast, they've been done more times."

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry, trying to cheer Ron up.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"Don't worry, it tends to run in the families. It's not a guarantee, but still, you don't strike me as a Slytherin. No offence but you don't seem sly or cunning. I'm thinking you'll be in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Anyway, what do you have against Slytherin?"

"That's the house Vol—, I mean, You-Know-Who was in, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Everyone knows Slytherins are all evil."

"Well that's rubbish. There are plenty good wizards from Slytherin. Merlin was one, so was Horace Slughorn. Every house has some bad apples, doesn't mean everyone is like that. Don't make assumptions and get to know the person. They might be completely different from what you originally thought."

"Yeah, I mean my Uncle and Aunt thought that all magic was bad and I got treated horribly because of that. If they didn't think that maybe everything would be different. I'm not going to make assumptions like that." Harry said.

"I guess that's true. I still don't want to be in Slytherin." Ron said frowning.

"So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Harry said, trying to get Ron out of his bad mood. He was also wondering what a wizard did once he'd finished school.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles — someone tried to rob a high security vault."

"Really," the Doctor said, interested again. "What happened?"  
"Well that's the thing, they weren't caught. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Er — I don't know any," Harry said looking embarrassed.

"Me neither, what is Quidditch?" The Doctor asked.

"What!" Ron looked almost offended that they didn't know. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world—"

He started telling them all about the game. He was still talking when the compartment door slid open again. The Doctor started wondering if the door had a sign that said "Open the Door, we want to be interrupted!" on it. Three boys entered, and the blond boy in the middle, who seemed to be the leader asked, "Is it true then? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes." Harry answered, staring at the other two boys.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the blond boy, looking bored. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy"

"Hello, Crabbe, Goyle. Do you guys have first names or do you prefer being called by your last names?" The Doctor asked.

"I'm Vincent and he's Gregory." Vincent Crabbe said.

"It's very nice to meet you guys." He held out a hand first to Vincent, then to Gregory, and lastly to Draco.

Both Vincent and Gregory shook his hand but Draco looked at it like it was a piece of dirt. "And you are?"

"The Doctor."

"That's a muggle title." Draco said.

"Yes, it's my nickname."

"You must be a mud-blood then."

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because pure-bloods are better than mud-bloods!" It was clear that Draco was getting frustrated.

"Oaky, then how are they better?"

"I don't know! They just are!" Draco was getting really upset. "Anyway it doesn't matter," He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. Like him," He turned to Ron. "He's a Weasley. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford. Anyway, I can help you." He held out a hand to shake.

"You know, I think the Doctor's right. Can you explain why you think you're better than Ron?"

Draco looked angry again. He was about to retort when the Doctor said, "What about you Gregory? Do you think you're better than other people?"

The boy looked surprised that the Doctor had asked him but after a few moments said, "No, I don't see why I would be. My dad always told me that pure-bloods were the best and that muggles were scum but he never explained it. I don't know why we would be."

"And you, Vincent?" The Doctor asked turning to the other boy.

"I guess I agree with Greg, now that I think about it."

"Good, good, you're thinking for yourselves. You're no blindly following whatever you're told. That makes you really smart."

Both boys were taken aback. They looked as though this was the first time anyone had told them they were smart.

"Whatever. Let's go." Draco said, his cheeks tinged a pale pink.

"Bye Vincent, bye Gregory." The Doctor called to them and they waved back.

He had just sat down again when the compartment door opened for the seventh time. The Doctor closed his book, the universe seemed to want to distract him today. Hermione poked her head inside and said, "I heard raised voices, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we've just met a few new people." The Doctor answered.

"Vincent and gregory seemed okay, but Malfoy is a jerk."

"You've met Malfoy before?"

Harry explained to them about his encounter with Draco when he went to get robes in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," Ron said. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there."

"Thank you Hermione. We'll do that now."

"All right — I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," Hermione said in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron blushed again and attempted to wipe the dirt off his nose. Outside it was getting dark, the reds and oranges of the sunset fading into the black trees. The three boys changed into their robes and sat back down. The Doctor noted that Ron's were a bit short.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." A voice called out through the train.

Harry and Ron both looked very nervous but the Doctor was having the time of his life. He had put away his book, though he still didn't completely understand how Transfiguration worked. Finally the train stopped and all the kids filed out. It was a bit cold and to his right the Doctor saw Harry shiver.

Then a light came from somewhere accompanied by a booming voice. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

The Doctor looked up at a giant man with friendly black eyes.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" He called again. All the first years followed the giant man who led them down a slippery, narrow path, surrounded by dark trees.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," The man called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

As they turned the bend the was a collective "oooh" from the students. The Doctor had to admit that the castle looked ethereal, perched on a high mountain overlooking the giant lake, set against the starry sky.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The giant called and pointing to the little boats by the shore. The Doctor clambering into one with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Everyone in?" shouted the giant man, sitting in a boat by himself. "Right then FORWARD!"

All of the boats glided forward over the smooth surface of the lake. As they approached the first cliff the man, he really should learn his name, called, "Heads Down!"

Everyone ducked their heads as they passed under the cliff. They traveled through some ivy and down a dark tunnel until they reached a harbor underground and clambered out.

The giant checked the boats and called out. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" yelled Neville, and held out his hands.

They climbed up, following the lamp, walked up a flight of stone steps, and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" The giant asked. Neville nodded. The man raised his hand and knocked on the wooden door three times.

* * *

 **A/N: So tell me, do you like it? It's going to be different now that it takes place in the first book. However I think this will make it better. Also I think in the book Crabbe and Goyle were written as extremely stupid and just there to follow Malfoy around. So why were they in Slytherin? So I'm gonna change their characters to make them better. So they're not the brightest but they're not idiots.**


	3. Chapter Three - A Chat With A Hat

**Disclaimer: I have been informed that I do not, in fact, own Harry Potter. Oh well, at least I still own Doctor Who. Wait! What do you mean I don't own that either!**

* * *

Chapter 3 - A Chat With A Hat

The doors swung open revealing a tall, thin woman, dressed in emerald green robes.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." So his name was 'Hagrid'.

Hagrid nodded to Professor McGonagall and she pulled the doors wide. The entrance hall was big, but having lived in an infinite spaceship almost his whole life it didn't seem that impressive.

Professor McGonagall led them them down the entrance hall, which was lined with torches, all burning brightly. Up ahead was a giant marble staircase. There were doors on each side, and the Doctor could hear what seemed to be the rest of the school, gathered in a room to the right. Right now the Doctor wanted to explore everywhere at once, the doors to the left of him, the stairs, and the room where everyone else was.

Professor McGonagall had other plans however. She led them to a small chamber off the hall, and they crowded in. The Doctor sensed that she was about to give a speech, and indeed she did.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." She said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the great hall you will be sorted into houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points."

At this the Doctor sighed a little. There was no way he wasn't exploring every inch of the castle, but he didn't want lose points.

"At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

She looked pointedly at the Doctor, who had put on his bowtie over his robes. He stared back defiantly; he wasn't about to take it off. She sighed and continued.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry whispered to Ron

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

"Well, it can't be dangerous or none of the parents would let their kids come." The Doctor whispered. He could hear Hermione frantically whispering what seemed to be spells under her breath.

Then several people screamed.

"What the —?"

The Doctor turned and saw about twenty ghosts gliding across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at any of them. The Doctor had to restrain himself from pulling out his screwdriver and scanning the figures. He wanted to know what they were. One of the ghosts a fat little monk said, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—" They seemed to be arguing about something.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

One of the ghosts had finally noticed them. When nobody looked like they were about to talk the Doctor stepped forward.

"Hello! We're just waiting here until we get sorted."

"New students!" said the Fat Friar. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

The Doctor was about to ask what the ghosts were arguing about when a sharp voice said, "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

Professor McGonagall was back. The ghosts floated away to the Doctors disappointment.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told them "and follow me."

The Doctor got in line in between Ron and Harry and the hoard of students followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall.

It was impressive but the Doctor had seen many wonders during his travels. In front of him Harry looked up at the ceiling. He heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

"Why didn't they just make it out of glass?" The Doctor asked. Hermione didn't answer.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. It looked old and dirty but it was giving out a lot of energy. For a few seconds there was silence and then a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The hat finished and applause rang in the hall.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to him and Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

When everyone quieted down Professor McGonagall pulled out a sheet of parchment and stepped forward.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with blonde pigtails stumbled up and placed the hat over her head. After a moment the hat yelled out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right cheered and clapped and Hannah walked down to that table.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan sat down next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

After a moment's pause it called out, "RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped several students shook hands with Terry.

After a while Professor McGonagall called out "Granger, Hermione!" She seemed so excited that she almost ran up to the hat, which after a few moments deliberation put her in, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron groaned behind him. When Neville was called he stumbled and fell on his way to the hat. The hat placed him into, "GRYFFINDOR!" When it did, he ran off still wearing it and had to go back to give it to the next student.

When Draco's name was called the hat barely touched his head when it pronounced him "SLYTHERIN!"

As Professor McGonagall called out more and more students the Doctor noticed Harry looking more and more nervous. Finally it was his turn and Professor McGonagall called out, "Potter, Harry."

People started whispering as they heard his name. Harry put on the hat and after a few tense minutes it put him in, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The boy headed down to the Gryffindor table where the red-headed wins were yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

A few more people got sorted and then it was his turn.

"Smith, John." She called out and he walked calmly to the hat before pulling it over his eyes.

He waited for a few seconds before thinking

 _Hello! Anyone in there! Hat! Are you there?_

 _Yes I'm here, where else would I be?_ A voice replied.

 _Well, I've never done this before. So sort me._

 _Hmm… You're blocking things off. What don't you want me to see?_

 _It's not really any of your business._

 _Of course it is! How do you expect me to sort you if I can't access your memories?_

The Doctor stayed quiet.

 _Exactly, so take off your defences, boy._

With that statement the Doctor felt a presence in his mind start attacking, trying to get through. It was quite painful.

 _Stop it._

 _Then let me in._

 _There are some thing in my mind even I don't want to see._

 _Those are exactly the thing I can judge you by._

 _Can you be sworn to secrecy?_

 _Why?_

 _I have many secrets in my mind. Some that no one should know._

 _I can swear to never tell anyone what I will see._

 _Okay then._ A sudden thought struck the Doctor. _Do you have memories? Are you alive?  
I like to think so. _

_In that case you must have secrets too._

The hat didn't answer for a moment. Then it replied. _Yes._

 _If you let me into your head then I'll let you into mine. That way I can be sure that you won't tell anyone._

 _No._

 _I wonder what house you would be in. Have you thought about that? Can you sort yourself?_

 _Now is not the time to discuss such things. Talk to me later. Right now I have to sort you._

 _Fine, but I expect you to answer my questions next time._

 _Fine._

The Doctor sighed and slowly lifted the defences on his memories.

 _Oh, you are interesting. Time Lord._ It replied after a while.

 _Well, come on then. Sort me._

 _Oi! Don't rush the process. I need to be sure of my decision. Yes, so much loyalty, to all your companions. But such bravery too._

 _I wouldn't call it bravery._

 _You know you talk too much. Would it hurt you too listen once in a while?_

The Doctor scowled but kept quiet.

 _Resourcefulness, you've got plenty of that. And wisdom. You are very old and very wise. But Doctor, there are still some things that you are keeping locked away._

 _No. There are some things I don't want you to see._

 _What is your name Doctor? Your true name?_

 _Hat. You are starting to annoy me._

 _Open the doors, Doctor._

The Doctor frowned, but after a few moments silence he lifted the barriers leaving his mind completely exposed. The hat was quiet for a while, but the Doctor could still feel it's presence in his head.

 _I'm sorry._ It said finally. _You have seen so much loss. How do you deal with it?  
_ The Doctor didn't answer.

 _I really am sorry for you Doctor._ The hat told him. He sighed, and in that moment he felt like the oldest being alive.

 _So, sort me._ He said again, his voice cold and emotionless.

 _Hmm… You would fit well in any of the houses._

The Doctor was quiet for a moment. _What!_ He said finally, rage seeping from the words. _I let you in on my deepest darkest secrets and you still can't sort me into any of the houses._

 _You know I take your opinion into account. Which house do you want to be in?_

 _That's your job to decide not mine._

 _Still you must have a preference._

 _No. I don't care. Just put me into one of them._

 _It's rather hard to sort someone who has twelve different personas. Should I sort you based on only this regeneration, or all of them?_

 _That's a good question. I'm not sure really._

 _This is why I don't usually sort thousand year old aliens who change their personality once every hundred years._

 _Hmm…_ The hat said again after a while. The Doctor was really growing tired of it.

 _I think I know just what to do with you._

 _Wait! Before you sort me can you explain Transfiguration?_

 _What? Why would you ask me?_

 _I trust you._

 _Well, fine. What don't you understand?  
How can you turn something into something else? I mean if you have wood, how do you turn it into iron. It's not possible!_

 _Hmm… I think it's less about turning into into something different than imagining it has always been that way._

 _Oh! Of course! It's hacking reality! It's going into the code of the universe and changing a 0 to a 1! Oh it's brilliant! Thank you hat._

 _Yes, well, you're welcome. Now do you mind if I sort you. There are still more students after you._

 _Yes, go on then._

 _Well then, you belong in…_

* * *

Harry stared at John who was still sitting with the hat on his head. At the four long tables some students were talking quietly while others had their heads down on the table. The first years who hadn't been sorted yet were sitting on the floor looking very bored. Even some of the teachers weren't paying attention. Harry noted however that Dumbledore was still quite attentive.

John crossed his arms again. It looked like he was arguing with the hat. Harry wondered how long he had been up there. John uncrossed his arms and looked relieved but then he straightened up again. After a minute his mouth opened into an "o" shape and then split into a smile. His hands moved up and down as though he was explaining something. He finished and nodded. A few seconds later the rip opened again and the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

The Doctor nodded as the hat called out Gryffindor. He understood the hat's reasoning for putting him in that house. He thanked the hat and said goodbye, promising to visit, before taking it off his head. He blinked a few times to help get his eyes to adjust to the sudden light. When they did he saw that everyone was staring at him. He stood next to the stool for a couple of seconds before he heard a clapping coming from his right. Seeing this as a cue the Gryffindor table began applauding and he made his way to them.

He sat down between Harry and the weasley twins. They were about to speak when McGonagall cleared her throat and read out the next name. Everyone had forgotten there were still others who needed to be sorted. More names were called and Ron got into Gryffindor. Soon the sorting was over.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide as though he wanted to hug all of them.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank You!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

"Is he — a bit mad?" Harry asked the ginger boy across from him uncertainly.

"Mad?" The boy said. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

The plates filled with various food and the Doctor, realizing he hadn't eaten since breakfast grabbed some food. He was disappointed to see there were no fish fingers or custard.

"Aren't there any fish fingers? Or custard?" He said, more to himself. He would have to talk to whoever did the cooking around here. Around him people were still giving him weird looks. The ginger twins turned to the Doctor again.

"So John—" One of them began.

"You were a Hatstall—" the second continued

"The longest ever—"

"You sat there for a full seventeen minutes—"

"And forty four seconds. So tell us—"

"Which house—"

"Did it almost put you in?" They finished together.

"Well, it considered all four houses for me. It really couldn't choose. Told me to make the decision and when I refused it put me into Gryffindor." The Doctor answered. "Oh and I also asked it to explain Transfiguration. I finally get it!"

They gaped at him, their faces displaying an identical look of shock. The Doctor smiled, turned back to his plate and served himself some food. He could already tell that this was going to be fun.

"That does look good," said the ghost from before sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you — ?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"Hello, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington." The Doctor said turning to the ghost. "It's very nice to meet you. I hope this isn't rude but could you tell me about ghosts? There actually isn't a lot of information in books. You are incorporeal but still visible. You can talk and move, but you can't hold things. How are you able to do that? What animates you?"

"Well, I am not sure myself. In life I was never the brightest and I'm afraid I cannot answer your questions. I suppose you can say we exist on a different plane. Or more accurately, we exist between planes. Half in the land of the living and half in the land of the dead."

"That would make sense, but then it begs the question, is there something after death? If there is do you exist there as well? Are there two of you, independent of each other? Is there one that is truly you?"

The Doctor cut himself off before he began a rant. The other students around him were looking at him as though he was crazy.

"Anyway, thank you for your help Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington!" He finished and turned back to his food, which unfortunately had vanished and been replaced by deserts while he had been talking.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington coughed and said, "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

The ghost in question was sitting at the Slytherin table next to Draco. The Doctor reached out for a bowl of custard and started drinking it. Harry once again gave him a weird look.

"It's not as good without fish fingers, but it'll do." The Doctor said happily. To his right Harry was talking with Neville, Ron, and a boy named Seamus Finnigan about their families while across from him Hermione and the ginger prefect named Percy were talking about lessons. Suddenly Harry clapped a hand to his head and yelled out, "Ouch!"

Percy turned to him. "What is it?"

"N-Nothing. Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to — everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

The Doctor looked at the hook nosed professor. He did seem to be annoyed about something.

Soon Dumbledore stood up again and he deserts disappeared.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

He looked straight at Fred and George Weasley. The Doctor wondered what was in the forest that was so dangerous.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Some people laughed, including Harry, but the Doctor had the feeling that Dumbledore wasn't kidding.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

Everyone started singing to different tunes and speeds. It sounded horrible but Dumbledore seemed to enjoy it because he said, "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy as he led them to their common room. Around him kids were yawning and stumbling but the Doctor was carefully constructing a map of Hogwarts. If he was correct then the castle was a bit sentient, not unlike the TARDIS. The long hallways and moving stairs reminded him of her.

Soon they stumbled upon a bundle of walking sticks floating in midair ahead of them. As Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself."

A sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little smiling man appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, and cackled. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this, I mean it!" threatened Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue before throwing the walking sticks and vanishing. The Doctor pulled Neville out of the way before they could hit him.

"You want to watch out for Peeves." Percy said as they approached a large painting. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

"Password?" the portrait said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy and the portrait swung inwards to reveal a red and gold covered space. Percy told them where to go and the boys headed up the spiral staircase until they reached their room. There were six beds, one for each of them, with their trunks already placed at the end of the beds. The Doctor was glad because that settled any debates over who got which bed. His was the closest to the window, which he liked. While the rest of the kids clambered into their beds and fell asleep in minutes the Doctor stayed up. Since the moment he had stepped foot into this castle he had been itching to go explore. Still he would have to wait a bit, so he settled down of his bed and pulled out a new book to read.

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed. This chapter isn't that different but I sort of shifted some things to the next chapter so this one doesn't get too long. After this things will probably start getting more different. Also I really like writing the Doctor talking to the Sorting Hat.**


	4. Chapter Four - Promotion

**Disclaimer: I am still trying to get the rights to Doctor Who and Harry Potter, but unfortunately I have not yet done so. So, at the moment I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who.**

* * *

Chapter Four - Promotion

The room was silent except for the quiet snores of the sleeping students. The Doctor glanced at his wrist, which didn't contain a watch and whispered.

"12:30 on the dot. Perfect time for adventuring!"

He pulled on some robes and put on sneakers. They were much better for running and keeping quiet, which was what he needed. He really didn't want to be caught on his first day. That would just be embarrassing. He would have to wait at least a week.

He slipped out of his dormitory and tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone. He was glad to find that there was no one in the common room. That would make things much easier.

He stopped right in front of the exit and considered what he was about to do. He wasn't one for planning. In fact he rarely even had a plan. But if he wanted to explore every inch of the castle, which he did, he would have to approach this systematically. He would go floor by floor and make sure that he had found everything he could before moving on. The only problem was where to start. Well, that wasn't the only problem. He would also have to decide when he would do the stairs. How would he group them? And, of course he would have to explore the grounds. When would he do that? Oh, there was just too much to do and too little time! He chuckled quietly, wasn't that always the case? Maybe this is why he didn't make plans.

With that thought he confidently pushed the back of the painting open and sneaked out of the common room. He had no idea of the layout of the castle so he decided that he would just wander through the hallways until he found something interesting. It wasn't a great plan, but then his plans often weren't. In fact they often relied on his ability to talk his way out of difficult situations. Which was excellent, thankfully.

He walked down a corridor and took a right. It was dark, but he could still see his surroundings. It reminded him of his adventures in the TARDIS. He couldn't count how many times he had explored her rooms. And there was always something new! She was infinite after all. This wasn't exactly the same, but it was close. And it still made his hearts race with excitement.

The portraits in the walls were asleep. Well, mostly. Sometimes he thought he could see some watching him. In fact he couldn't really shake the feeling that he was being watched. Though that was to be expected in a magic school with living portrait. He was fascinated by them, but then again he was fascinated by almost anything. More than anything he wanted to figure out how it all worked. He couldn't just accept that it was 'magic', there had to be some scientific explanation.

He moved on, not paying attention the route he had taken, though he had been remembering it subconsciously. He knew that he had moved into a part of the castle that not many people walked through. His footsteps echoed slightly in the corridor and he thought that it had been lucky he hadn't stumbled onto Filch or a teacher yet. He had been wandering around for a while. Speaking of that what time is it?

The Doctor licked the tip of his finger and held it up in the air. Of course he didn't need to do that, he could tell the time without doing it. But it had become a habit, and now he did it even when there wasn't anyone around to see.

"2:17 AM," he whispered. "Give or take a few seconds." He was so used to talking to his companions that he had found himself talking to himself on multiple occasions. He hadn't found anything yet just portraits and armour stands and hallways. He turned and walked back along the route he took until he got to the common room. He was bored and walking around for a few hours hadn't changed that. He amused himself for a while by turning his bow-tie different colors. He started adding patterns and shapes to make it more interesting but after a while that bored him too.

Today seemed to be one of those day where he just couldn't stay still. Or maybe he was still feeling the effects of desert. He lay back on the bed so that his head was hanging over the side and looked at the room upside down. He tried doing a handstand. He counted to a hundred. Then he found all the factors of every number up to a hundred. He sat down on the window sill and named every single star he could see.

Finally he just decided to read. He was running out of books and would have to get more soon. He wondered what kinds of books were in the library. He would go and see tomorrow. Or later today.

After a few more hours the kids sharing his dormitory began to stir. He waited for Harry and Ron and then led them to the Great Hall to eat breakfast.

* * *

When the Doctor, Harry, and Ron got to the Great Hall they sat down to eat breakfast. The Doctor had some toast and eggs, though he wasn't feeling that hungry. They also got their schedules that morning. The Doctor was happy that all his classes would be with Ron and Harry as well as the other first year Gryffindors. When they were finished they headed off to class.

Ron had grumbled about having classes with the Slytherins but he and Harry had reminded him that they weren't all bad. Ron had agreed but still didn't look too happy.

Classes turned out to be very fun for the Doctor. In his first Transfigurations class Professor McGonagall made them take notes and then they practiced turning matches into needles. Now that he understood how it worked the Doctor had not problem with doing the spell. In fact he did it on his first try. When Professor McGonagall asked him to turn it back he did so too. It was all very easy.

Astronomy was extremely easy, though he did have a problem with naming planets and stars that hadn't been discovered yet. History of Magic was extremely entertaining since every few facts the Doctor would interrupt to correct the facts. Unfortunately he could never say how he knew since if he did tell the truth they wouldn't believe him. He couldn't say he had been there even if he had.

Charms was also easy, especially when he adjusted his grip like Professor Flitwick told him. Before he had been holding it like his sonic screwdriver.

Herbology was messy but fun. He hung out with Neville during Herbology since anything the Doctor didn't know about plants Neville probably did.

Defence Against The Dark Arts was a joke. It was hard to understand Professor Quirrell with his stutter and he didn't really teach that much.

The teachers all agreed that the Doctor was perhaps one of the most annoying students ever. Brilliant, but annoying. He constantly asked questions. So much, in fact that Professor McGonagall only allowed his to ask three questions per class since often his questions got so complicated that only she understood them. Finally on Friday morning they had Potions. The Doctor had been looking forward to this class. He had been told by several students that Professor Snape never liked Gryffindors but the Doctor wanted to give him a chance.

So on Friday he, Ron and Harry hurried down to the Potions classroom right after breakfast. Before they left Harry had gotten a letter from Hagrid inviting him to tea and both the Doctor and Ron agreed to come along.

The Potions classroom was dimly lit and tinged with a green light. Various potion ingredients and other things stood in jars all around the room. They had Potions with the Slytherins and the Doctor waved to Vincent and Gregory who waved back. He sat with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

When Professor Snape walked in, his long cloak trailing behind him, the room became silent. He just had that aura around him that quieted a classroom in seconds. When he did the roll call he stopped at Harry's name and said, "Ah, Yes, Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."

Draco sniggered at this.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…" The Doctor was following his every word. He didn't want to miss anything. Though Snape wasn't talking loudly there was still absolute silence in the classroom.

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

The Doctor had liked Snape's speech, until he insulted the class. However he was sure he would be good at this class.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The Doctor raised his hand and so did Hermione/

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything." Snape said, ignoring his and Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

The Doctor kept his hand up, as did Hermione.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry was staring at Snape's eyes which drew the Doctors attention. Professor Snape was looking at Harry with utter loathing. The Doctor wondered what happened to make him hate someone like that.

Snape continued, paying no attention to the two raised hands, "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. The Doctor remained seated, he knew this wouldn't work.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and John do, though, why don't you try them?"

"Sit down," Snape snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" Then over the noise Snape added, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Snape turned to the board and wrote down the recipe for the potion they were doing today. When Snape had finished the class had scattered to start the potion. The Doctor stayed in his seat though. He read it. Then again. Then after a moment a third time. Snape seemed to have noticed the Doctor hadn't moved.

"Smith! Why are you still sitting there?"

 **(Disclaimer: the next scene is copied from the one in chapter 14 in De-Aged by the Bibliomaniac because I'm not smart enough to figure out the science of it on my own. This is a link to that chapter if you want to read it, since it's probably better than mine. Just a . between fanfiction and net because it won't let me do it. fanfiction net/s/9248096/14/De-Aged)**

The Doctor was quiet for a second before he turned and looked right at Snape. "I'm just a bit confused about this recipe, professor. See, as it is now it had the potential to be dangerous if brewed incorrectly, and it's wasteful. But that can be easily resolved so I can't understand why we are brewing it this way."

He could see Snape was surprised even if he barely showed it. "What?" He said finally.

"Start with the snake fangs for example," the Doctor started, looking back at the board. "They're only added for the calcium and the oxidoreductases. The ions of the former help desiccate the boil. The latter, when strengthened ad specialized for Staphylococcus aureus via magic, helps the body fight off the infection. Everything else in the snake fang is not only useless, but, in some cases, a detriment, as seen by its violent reaction to the keratin if the porcupine quills is added too soon."

He could see Snape was about to speak but he plowed on, not giving him a chance. "If you replace the snake fangs with pure calcium, or even sodium chloride come to think of it, and an oxidoreductase such as catalase or L-amino-acid oxidase, which actually are in snake venom, or if you prefer, regular isopropyl alcohol would work just as well and is easy enough to get, you would have eliminated all the extraneous ingredients. Without these ingredients, the dried nettles become pointless, since they are only added to absorb the useless and poisonous parts of the snake fangs."

By now everyone was staring at him. Snape looked completely shocked.

"Oh yes," the Doctor continued "Of course, I should point out that if you do use isopropyl alcohol, you'd have to change your base liquid, since alcohol won't mix well with oil. That's pretty simple though; simply use water instead of oil. Granted, this means that the finished product is too thin to slather on a boil, but you can add cornstarch until it's thick enough. This changes the final product from an ointment to a poultice, but it works just as well. There are, of course, other modifications you can make to both simplify the process to make it more efficient, but at this point you get the idea."

Snape stared at him, mouth agape. The classroom was deathly silent. Everyone was waiting to see what happened next. Finally Snape closed his mouth, noticing that the class was no longer working. "Continue as you were." He said to the class. Then he turned back to the Doctor. "Mr Smith, I—" He paused. "I would like you to write down the recipie with your improvements but create the potion as written. This class requires practical capabilities as well as theoretical knowledge."

The Doctor nodded and got to work. He helped Harry and Ron, and even Hermione. At the end of class his was perfect and the rest were pretty close as well. As they left the Doctor placed a piece of parchment next to his potion. To everyone's surprise Snape called out to him. "Smith." He said, and the Doctor turned around. "Well done."

That had been the first time Snape had given a compliment to a Gryffindor. When the last student left Snape picked up the piece of paper with neat writing on it and read it. Then he picked up his quill and wrote a brief note to Dumbledore.

* * *

At five to three Harry, Ron and the Doctor made their way down to Hagrid's hut. Harry stepped up to the wooden door and knocked. From inside they heard a frantic scrambling and several barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, "Back Fang — back."

The door swung open and Hagrids ace poked out. "Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."  
He opened the door further and they all filled in. "Make yerselves at home," he said, letting go of Fang who bounded up to Ron immediately.

"This is Ron," Harry said to Hagrid, who was busy filling a large teapot with boiling water. "And this is John."

"Call me the Doctor. Everyone does." The Doctor corrected.

Hagrid turned to Ron. "Another Weasley, eh? I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

"What is in the forest thats so dangerous?" The Doctor asked turning back to Hagrid.

"There's dark creatures living there. Not safe for students."

They sat down at the table to eat rock cakes, which the Doctor declined, and talk. They told Hagrid all about their first lessons. When they told Hagrid about their Potions class Harry got upset and Ron very excited. He told Hagrid how the Doctor had made Snape speechless and how he even complimented him. Hagrid told them how Snape like hardly any students, especially from Gryffindor so Harry shouldn't worry.

"But he seemed to really hate me." Harry noted.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Talk turned to Ron and his brother and while the others were talking the Doctor picked up a cutting from the Daily Prophet that was lying on the table. After reading it through he nudged Harry and said, "Look at this."

He handed Harry the paper and the boy read it through as well.

"Hagrid!" said Harry once he was done, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

Hagrid looked away looking extremely guilty. Harry looked back down at the paper, deep in thought.

They left right before dinner and headed back to the castle. As they walked the Doctor asked, "So, what do you think about that Gringotts break in?"

"Well, on my birthday when we went to get money from my vault Hagrid also had to get something from vault seven hundred and thirteen. There was only a small package and he took it. The Daily Prophet said the vault was emptied and Hagrid wouldn't meet my eyes. I think the thief was after that package."

"Hmm. That does sound possible. We'll have to find out more."

The Doctor was looking forward to this year. There was a mystery to solve and the Doctor was intending to do just that.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore had so far gotten a note from almost every teacher concerning John Smith. He had noticed the boy during his sorting; how could he not. To tell the truth there was something different about him and Dumbledore wanted to find out what. So now all the teachers that had Mr. Smith were gathered in Dumbledore's office. They were quiet, waiting for Dumbledore to speak.

"Now, many of you have requested to talk about one of the new first years, John Smith. There is no doubt that he is clever and deserves to move up in some cases." He turned to Professor Binns. "Which year would you like to put him in for History of Magic?"  
"First year. He constantly interrupts to tell a ridiculous story about the events without having any evidence to support it. He clearly has no clue about history.

"Very well. What about you, Quirinus?"

"F-F-First year."

"Severus?"

Everyone turned to the Potions professor.

"Seventh year."

"No, that is ridiculous." Professor McGonagall interrupted. "You can't place him with students six years older than him!"

Snape pulled out a piece of paper. "Look at that. A modified version of the cure for boils." he handed it to Dumbledore who read over it. "He came up with that after looking at the recipe for a few minutes. And it all checks out! He did what takes some adults years in minutes. I want to put him in my most advanced class."

"I agree Severus, but he needs a social life!" McGonagall said.

"How about a private lesson?" Snape suggested.

"That sounds reasonable." Dumbledore agreed.

"Then I would like to have private lessons as well."

"Very well Minerva." He turned to the last two teachers.

"How about you Fillius, Pomona?"  
Flitwick thought for a moment before saying, "I will keep him in first year."

"As will I. Nothing can beat experience."

"Since he is in your house could you notify him of these alterations at breakfast?" Dumbledore asked Mcgonagall. She nodded and one by one the teachers made their way out of the headmasters office.

* * *

 **A/N: So, once again the scene in Potions class is taken from the Bibliomaniac. I hope you liked it. I also hope I haven't made the Doctor too awesome and powerful. I feel like he should have more problems with magic. I'm not sure. Anyway, hope you enjoyed.**


	5. Chapter Five - Brooms and Duels

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Harry Potter.**

 **Also, if you haven't noticed a lot of the dialogue is directly taken from the books.**

* * *

Chapter Five - Brooms and Duels

Ever since meeting him in the train Draco Malfoy seemed to have a grudge against the Doctor. He now hung around with Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson and blamed the Doctor for his loss of friendship, if you could even call it that, with Vincent and Gregory. Even though both boys had ended up in Slytherin they talked to the Doctor, much to Ron's displeasure. In fact the Doctor had even had a fight with Ron because of it.

At one point when they had been in the library, Ron and Harry doing homework and the Doctor doing some reading, Vincent and Gregory had approached them. Since they had the same Potions class and the Doctor had proven that he was great at Potions they had decided to ask him for help. Ron had not been happy about this.

"You can't help them! They're Slytherins." He had whispered across the table.

"But why not. They asked for help, it would be rude to deny them."

"Yeah, but we're Gryffindors, we're not supposed to hang out with Slytherins."

"What do you have against Slytherins!" The Doctor raised his voice, anger surging through him. "You're just as prejudiced as Draco Malfoy."

Ron had turned a bright red and hid his face in a large book while the Doctor went to help out Vincent and Gregory. He had to calm himself down after that. He had forgotten that as a child he was very emotional and couldn't suppress them as much.

After that Draco had stopped hanging out with them and he saw the Doctor as the problem. So far the Doctor had managed to avoid any confrontation since the only class they had together was Potions and he now had private lessons of that. But that all changed when he saw a notice that announced that the Slytherins and Gryffindors would be having flying lessons together. After that it seemed like all anyone could talk about was flying.

The Doctor really couldn't see the appeal. Why would you want to be fifty feet in the air on a piece of wood when you could go anywhere in a TARDIS. At least you were inside when you were falling over. Harry and Ron though didn't seem to share his opinion. They seemed a bit put out that the class would be with the Slytherins but otherwise were looking forward to it. Neville was terrified and for good reason. Hermione Granger, who seemed to dislike him for some reason, was trying to learn how to fly by reading which was totally the wrong approach in the Doctor's opinion.

On Thursday morning during breakfast she decided to read out a load of facts about flying, a lot of which didn't even apply to them. Neville seemed desperate so the Doctor took pity on him.

"Neville, you're not gonna fly if you don't believe you can do it. You've got to calm down and let your instincts take over."

Neville didn't look reassured.

Soon a barn owl landed in front of Neville, bringing a package with it. He unwrapped it and took out a small glass ball full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh... " The rememberal turned bright red. "... you've forgotten something…"

"But that's not very useful. I mean you still don't know what you forgot. So all it does is cause paranoia since you don't remember what you forgot."

Neville didn't seem to hear him. He was seemingly trying to remember what it was he had forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was walking past the Gryffindor table, snatched it out of his hands.

Harry and Ron jumped up and the Doctor rolled his eyes. Those two always wanted to get into a fight. Fortunately Professor McGonagall intervened and Draco gave back the remembrall.

When they got to the grounds where their first lesson would take place the Slytherins were already there, as were the broomsticks.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived and immediately yelled, "Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Everyone scrambled to stand by a broomstick. They were all old with bits sticking out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called, "and say 'Up!'"

Everyone shouted "UP!" The Doctors broom flew into his hand, as did Harry's and a few others. Neville's didn't move at all and Hermione's barely did.

When they all had their brooms in their hands Madam Hooch showed them the proper way to sit on the broom and to hold it. She walked up and down the rows and corrected their grips.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch, once they all had it right. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two—"

But Neville kicked off before the whistle blew. He rose up and up, with a terrified expression on his face.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch yelled up at him. But Neville didn't seem to have any control over his broom. Neville glanced down, gasped and slipped sideways off his broom. The Doctor grabber his wand and pointed it at Neville as he fell.

" _Molliare_!" He yelled the incantation for the cushioning charm just in time to avoid Neville breaking anything. Neville lay face down in the grass, unhurt but obviously in shock.

Madam Hooch was bending over him, chicking him for injuries. With her help he sat up, his face still deathly white.

"Come on, up you get!" She said to him. Then turning to the rest of the class, "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor for that spell Mr. Smith. Come on, dear."

The Doctor was glad he had managed to save Neville from some pain. Really there should be some kind of charm so that if a student falls they don't hurt themselves.

As soon as Neville and Madam Hooch were out of sight Draco burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" He said. Some of the other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil snapped at him.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

Before Parvati could answer Draco darted forward. "Look!" he said. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." He held up the remembrall.

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said, and everyone turned to watch them.

"Listen Draco, just hand it over. You don't have to do this!" The Doctor intervened.

"Shut up Mudblood!" Draco said then turned and smirked at Harry. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled.

"Come on Draco!" The Doctor called.

Draco,ignoring the Doctor, leapt onto his broom and flew up. "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" Hermione shouted. "Madam Hooch told us not to move — you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored her and flew up to Draco. They seemed to be taunting each other before Draco threw the remembrall and Harry dived to get it. He caught it about a foot from the ground and lightly toppled onto the ground.

"HARRY POTTER!" Professor McGonagall yelled. She scolded him for flying, and then led him back into the castle. This was the end of their first flying class.

At dinner it turned out that instead of being punished Harry had been given a place on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was the youngest player in a century.

When dinner was done the Doctor, Harry, and Ron headed to the library to finish up homework, or in the Doctor's case, continue reading through all the books. Unfortunately just when they had gotten started Draco Malfoy along with Theodore Nott approached them.

"Still here, Potter. Guess they haven't kicked you out. Last day here?"

"Hello Draco. How are you?" The Doctor tried to intervene.

"Shut up Mudblood!"

"What do you want?" The Doctor was trying to avoid conflict.

"You're worse than Granger. I bet that's why you spend all this time reading." Draco scoffed.

"I don't see what's wrong with learning. Haven't you ever heard the saying knowledge is power?"  
"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Draco. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only — no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course I have. I believe it's customary to choose a second and arrange a time and place beforehand. I choose Ronald Weasley as my second. Since you challenged me you will set up the time and place."

"Yes, well, Nott is my second." Draco replied looking a bit taken back. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

"Very well, unfortunately we don't have the means for a proper inspection, nor for a judge, so I suppose this will have to be informal. Draco, this is your last chance to back down. I don't use violence. I don't fight. But if you continue I will find a way to stop you, like I always do."

"You're just scared Smith." Draco gloated.

"I'll be there at midnight."

Draco and Theodore Nott left and the room descended back into silence.

"What is a wizard's duel?" asked Harry. "And what do you mean, you're his second?"

"A wizard's duel is just like a regular duel. Two people meet, bow and start firing curses and jinxes 'till the opponent is stunned, injured, or, well, dead. A second is there to take their place if they do die and finish the duel," the Doctor caught the look on Harry's face and continued. "Though this duel will be rather informal. I don't think Draco knows much magic yet and I am considerably stronger. Nobody will die. All I have to do is stun him. It's harmless really."

Harry still didn't look convinced. "But what if you wave your wand and nothing happens?"

"That won't happen to me, but if it does, I'll just forfeit."  
"You'll let him win?"

"I will not use violence."

It was at this moment that a girl with bushy brown hair by the name of Hermione interrupted. "Excuse me," she said. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation with Malfoy—"

"Bet you could." Ron whispered.

"—and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"Well, we'll only lose points if we're caught. Believe me I have a lot of experience sneaking around." The Doctor noted.

"Good-bye!" Ron added and Hermione huffed and walked away.

* * *

At first Draco had been planning to just get that Mudblood Smith in trouble with Filch, but then Nott suggested a much better idea. His father had taught him how to do the cruciatus curse and that was supposed to hurt. Draco figured that the Mudblood deserved it. That's what his father always said. They were all inferior, all unworthy to learn magic.

So Nott had taught him what to say. It seemed easy but Nott said you had to mean it. You had to want to cause pain to the other person. Draco did want that. Smith had embarrassed him and turned Crabbe and Goyle against him. So now his plan was revised. He would meet Smith as scheduled, and he would make him suffer.

Nott would help him. Maybe after they were done with Smith they could curse that blood-traitor Weasley or that stupid Potter.

So Draco lay in his bed, not worried in the slightest, waiting for midnight.

* * *

The Doctor asked himself for the hundredth time what had possessed him to agree to Draco's duel. He didn't fight, not anymore. He had promised himself, he had sworn to never again fight. Not after what he did on Gallifrey.

But he had acted without thinking, he had acted like a child.

Perhaps that was it. He was afterall a child. He had the brain of a child, so he would react differently. It still didn't change the fact that he had agreed to a fight. But he still didn't want to lose. He had this childish urge, this unwillingness to lose to admit defeat.

Where had that come from? He had chosen, he would still choose,to be a coward, not a fighter. But he couldn't just give up, let Draco get away with this. Still, Draco was a child and he was an adult. But right now he felt like a child.

The Doctor sat in bed, unable to rest, arguing with himself until midnight.

* * *

"Half past eleven." Ron whispered at last. "Time to go."

The Doctor, Harry and Ron, put on their bathrobes, and sneaked down the spiral staircase into the Gryffindor common room. They were almost at the portrait when a lamp turned on and a disapproving voice called, "I can't believe you're going to do this, John."

It was Hermione Granger.

You!" Ron whispered furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy — he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"Come on." Harry said and the Doctor and Ron followed him out of the portrait hole. However Hermione wasn't about to give up and she too followed them out into the corridor.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells." She hissed at them.

"Listen, we'll only lose points if we're caught. Which is more likely if they hear us." The Doctor pointed out.

"You'll be caught!" Hermione hissed again

"Go away." Ron whispered

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so—"  
But Hermione didn't finish because at that point Hermione turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to see that the Fat Lady wasn't, in fact, there.

"Now what am I going to do?" Hermione whined.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They had barely made it a few steps when Hermione was catching up to them saying, "I'm coming with you."

"You are not." Ron protested.

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"Wait, everyone, be quiet. I think I heard something." The Doctor said and the four of them strained their ears for the noise. There it was again, a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" Ron asked squinting into the darkness.

It wasn't the Mrs. Norris, in fact it wasn't a cat at all. It was Neville. He seemed to be sleeping, curled up on the floor, but woke up as they approached him.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed." He said.

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere." Harry muttered.

The Doctor kneeled down next to Neville and asked, "How are you Neville?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Madam Pomfrey gave me some calming draft and a cup of tea."

"Good — well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later—" Ron started to say.  
"Don't leave me!" Neville whimpered, and scrambled to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron scowed, glanced at his watch and then turned to Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

So that's how the Doctor ended up leading four eleven year olds to the trophy room at midnight.

When they got there Draco was already waiting with Nott.

"How many people did you bring?" He whispered angrily.

"They're not gonna interfere. Hermione, Neville, Harry, just stand back," said the Doctor and Draco seemed satisfied. "Are you ready?"  
"Of course."

"It's not too late to back down. I really don't want to fight you."

"You're just scared."

The Doctor sighed. He had been hoping to avoid this. But he wasn't going to back down either. They faced each other and bowed, or rather the Doctor bowed and Draco barely moved his head. They turned around and took their strides.

"One— two— three— " The spun around and Draco bellowed "Crucio!"

A split second before the spell hit him the Doctor realized there was no way out. "Protego" wouldn't work and he had no time to dodge it. So he opened himself up to the spell and let it hit him.

It was more painful than anything he had lived though in his incredibly long life. It felt like being hit with a Dalek's beam continually. He was sure he would die. His mouth was open, he was sure he was screaming, but he could not hear. It seemed like eternity, the pain unending, though in reality it was a few seconds. Then it was over and he was slumped on the ground with six faces gazing down on him.

As his hearing came back he realized that Draco was kneeling over him, his face streaked with tears, whispering, "Oh God, what have I done. Oh my God."

Theodore Nott was standing back a bit, his face completely white. Hermione was gasping, her mouth open, staring at him. Harry and Ron were hovering over him looking concerned. But worst of all was Neville. His fists were clenched at his sides, his eyes wide, his face deathly white. He didn't seem to see what was in front of him, like he was imagining something else.

The Doctor struggled to get up, and was helped by Harry and Draco. Hermione seemed to have found her voice at last.

"That was an unforgivable curse! You'll be sent to Azkaban for that. How could you!" She nearly yelled. It seemed like they had all forgotten they weren't supposed to be out now.

The Doctor shushed her. To him it was obvious that Draco deeply regretted casting tat curse. He was afterall eleven, he probably had no idea what the curse would do. And the Doctor was fine. Well, he wasn't completely fine, but he would be. There were things that needed to be done now.

"Hermione,Ron, help Neville!" He whispered. They turned and seemed to realize neville wasn't alright.

The Doctor turned to Draco, who was still mumbling and apologizing. He was probably in shock.

"Draco, look at me, yes, come on," Draco turned his head toward the Doctor. The Doctor put his hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "Listen, you didn't know what the spell would do, you didn't know it would hurt this much. You still shouldn't have done it but you did. And I forgive you, because you acted stupid, but now you won't do something this stupid again." Draco nodded and quieted down.

Meanwhile Ron and Hermione had managed to break Neville out of that state, but he too seemed to be in shock.

"Okay, we can't stay here, we'll be caught. Let's go back to the common room." He turned to Draco and Theodore. "You can come with us and then we'll sort all this—"

But he didn't finish because they heard a noise in the next room. Everyone turned to stare at the door, and Harry and Ron raised their wands. They heard someone speak, "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch, talking to Mrs. Norris. They had to get out of there quickly. He must have heard all the comotion. They hadn't exactly been quiet.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard Fitch mutter, "probably hiding."

The Doctor beckoned the others to follow him and they crept down the long gallery full of suits of armor. Behind them they could hear Fitch getting closer. But there were seven of them and Neville, who was at the very back, suddenly panicked and started running, tripped, and grabbed onto Theodore's cloak to steady himself. Theodore fell sideways, taking Neville with him, and they crashed into a suit of armour.

The Doctor grinned, glanced at Harry, grabbed him and Draco by the hand, and yelled "RUN!"

And they ran. They ran down hallways and up staircases. Through doors and and secret passages. The Doctor led them, not knowing where they were going, and finally they ended up in front of the Charms classroom, miles from the trophy room.

"I think we lost him." Harry panted, and leaned back against the stone wall.

"Yes, now we have to get back to Gryffindor tower." The Doctor noted, the smile still on his face. However this turned out to be harder than they thought. They had barely gone a few paces when something shot out of a neighboring door. It was Peeves.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty." He cackled as he caught sight of them.

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please." Harry whispered.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves his eyes glittering wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," Ron said, and took a swipe at him. The Doctor winced, this was exactly the wrong thing to do.

Peeves took a deep breath and bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

They ducked under Peeves and ran towards the door at the end of the corridor. It was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, "We're done for! This is the end!"

The Doctor grabbed his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and pointed it at the lock. It sprung open and they filed inside.

"What was that?" Hermione asked.

"Screwdriver." The Doctor answered curtly.

"Screwdrivers can't do that!"

"It's sonic."  
Hermione was about to respond when Neville tugged at the corner of his sleeve and the Doctor turned around. Now he knew where he was. They weren't in a room. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor.

* * *

 **A/N: So, this is the first chapter that really differs from the story. I don't think all Slytherins are bad, and I think that pretty much any eleven year old would have reacted like Draco did if they hurt someone. Anyway, hope you enjoyed.**


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